ISSN 1480-6401

INTRODUCTION
David Sparenberg
IF EVER THERE WAS A TIME
CONTENTS
Charles A. Perrone
Intellectual Jousting (I’m Just Sayin’)
Her New Word Understood (w/ American spacing)
the coming of the rains came
Memo to Process
And Memorial Daze 2009
Felino A. Soriano
Upon Hankering
Watching, then
Dialogue of
Version 1
Secret, Sunday’s middle womb:
Accolade of silent incentive
Matched
Withdrawn
Incendiarism
John Ladd
VARIATIONS ON THE POLIS: I: COMMUNIST EASTERN EUROPE A Play in One Act
Rittvika Singh
Indigo Footprints
Guest
Dusk
Banaras: Away From Ganges (A Sketch)
Snippets :Being Inamorata
POST SCRIPTUM
Michael Parker
Poems, circa The Time of Migraines
The beginning, a haiku
The Preparations
Migraine Dreams

David Sparenberg
IF EVER THERE WAS A TIME
Nobody is spared some contact with the common diseases of human uncleanness and planetary abuse.
Cancer, madness, rape of the Earth. Nobody is spared degrees of involvement with acts of crime,
violence, which, always and everywhere, are eclipsing acts of beauty and reverence.
Trust is destroyed; compassion belittled. Each heart is crucified and life is being stood up
before the wall of execution. Where can we look where there is neither bloodshed happening nor
the threat of atrocity?
If ever there was a time to cry out to the deaf, that time is now. If ever there was a time to
bear witness before the blind, that time is now. If ever there was a time for public weeping,
o—for joining hands in a love circle of solidarity and making a candle-like attempt at honesty
among those who are equally naked with the soft light of humility and courage, that time is now.
Morning. I look eastward. Daylight is gradually emerging. I face toward otherness -- the agony
and the promise -- and I pray.
3 Feb. 2011

Charles A. Perrone
Intellectual Jousting (I’m Just Sayin’)
I. was a neighbor intrigued J. was a person amazed
by a simple nominal fact: by a known etymology:
Neighbor was a real family name. Person derives from Latin for mask.
Struggling to grasp countless spores, Wondering why notes should be tied,
studies in contrast, and more cyphers, signals allowed to stand for numbers,
I. introspected when the singer sang: J. just rested to wait to hear someone:
“Imagine…” “Justify…”
Her New Word Understood (w/ American spacing)
apart from the extreme natural beauty of thunder
with lightning, the crashing wonder and energy of
rainbows arching over rows of blunderless corn
and columns for crows to roost, protest, or reveal
shocking paths of flights with plunder bins in mind,
it has been the word itself asunder driving her to raid
every staid reference to sites in sight, things toto caelo,
to divide inexorably what truly merits shredding,
what ails, like nails being yanked, a putting on rails,
or simply the neologistic voice of detogetherment.
the coming of the rains came
then the rains came to wash away the threats
made good on or not of wood thrash or lots
of lashing in tongues and branding on skins
royal flushes emotion of drown kin and threads
weaning mad queens off ire trash and wrath
imperious kings of the sentiment thing
flashing excesses of princess in reign
angling still to analyze will an angry prince or more
taking leave of his senses in flight through fences
dukes dealing earls stealing reels off the floor
the price of undone hunger without range is high
low bills and deeds dangling from post combat arbor
rage rinsing the teeth of ravenous counts
with the sap and blades of knowledge
of trees bats and harbors
(august 7, 2009)
Memo to Process
.start with the
… kidneys, liver, colon, next
body part/region, organ, text
over what you might need
-treatment , , , ablution, , , a
new diet, or dext-
erous avoidance of the death
to no end.
And Memorial Daze 2009
the days of wine and roses and
(the host his voice and chalice)
raises
are over and over
our thoughts are (in line) with the fallen
and speciously special s p e c t a t o r s
who dine without fear sans fraught
the feisty talkers who feast on fame
and the road and kill of lame fowl
fattened and drugged by fast chains
so the fête is no sure bet nor appetite-
whetting event: perchance the opposite
as brazen speakers writers declare
perhaps the contrary where
waiters could dare to suggest
maybe it's an anti-something
(that)
we as an awed hence wounded troop
have yet outside the loop to grasp
the group that eats and drinks and
Felino A. Soriano
Upon Hankering
Seated
watching chaos
cross
complex diligent
excursions of denied reimbursement,
a
sympathetic echo of woven words
unravels touching hands across
leaning danger of
saddened shoulders
my
torso handles feminine vowels
with
collocated fashions of fascinated trembles
and
rewarded fixtures of the
multiple desire.
Watching, then
Impressions of the isolated method
mourn and burgeoned heat a tear
reforms contoured exaggeration of the adult face, altered.
You
withheld premise and devotional prose from
an onlooker’s curious gaze and
asymmetrical
cama
rad
erie
wanting the
unwanted yen of sporadic chained affirmation to
decompose historical facets
etched by eerie hands whose
momentum obligates faith into worried
halls of a the mind’s compensating excerptions.
Dialogue of
hymnal contrasts
spiritual eclectic
intentional unpredictable
created
returns
wrought mimesis
silent until
delineated captures roam
interrogating
broken listeners, abdicating positional presence of
existential bargains of neoteric exertions.
Version 1
You rebuild.
Mistaken burgeons recant indelible maturation. Why?
Questions
curate followers’ inability: self, authentic purpose
substitute portion/passion synonyms
requiem gallant near-séance
accidental findings
blood of motive
system whereabouts conundrum aspectual gild of aspired
failed, reeffort.
Secret, Sunday’s middle womb:
birth of broken silhouettes.
Scent of wind’s gregarious breath
song of mint, variant.
Heard coronas
caw caw
erected crows formulate
circumstanceses’
paved
as pilgrimages
fondling neoteric directions beyond eastwest pardons of oscillating
inventions.
Accolade of silent incentive
Element, comfortable diversion from
silver
stroked
passion
of elevated
antediluvian
passing. Monetary indifference promises
jejune
motives as
desolate pain-held
renditions of inoculate
syncopation.
Matched
, missed, more
interactive
interesting sans blemish of the monotone rendition
bouquets of kempt
sizes
foray
designation portable particles as dusts’ singular
unseen physiognomy
blemished though anticipating landing
elsewhere
window of discontent disrupts emotional appeal
founding
vocalized unification
portend of aspectual
desire fulcrum absolute
return.
Withdrawn
Ballad of morning, sifted tonal emulation, bridged vacuum excess
corridors of incessant material, materialized. Gestural
recompensation, physical heal of whole interpretation
the
mid-vocal spectrum:
—after wind
broke a syllable of time’s alphabetic collection
everyday mirrors compensate roles indifferent toward alabaster
ruins
of
pictorial promulgations.
Incendiarism
hands
locating
heated dispositional excitation
maintaining adolescent yen to
acquire antiquated notion, burden of inflicted
swell of dissipating allegories,
role and dare disseminate reaction
focal translucent epitomizing
execration
John Ladd
Dramatists Guild Member
VARIATIONS ON THE POLIS:
I:
COMMUNIST EASTERN EUROPE
A Play in One Act
CHARACTERS
(In Order of Appearance)
The People’s President
The People’s President’s Personal Secretary
Member of Parliament Number One
Member of Parliament Number Two
Member of Parliament Number Three
Two State Security Officers
Member of Parliament Number Four
Member of Parliament Number Five
Member of Parliament Number Six
SCENE
A chamber of parliament in an unnamed Communist Eastern European country. At center
stage is a lectern. On the lectern is a telephone and a gavel. Off to the right is
a small writing desk with a chair. Offstage, right, the parliament is assembled.
AT RISE
THE PEOPLE’S PRESIDENT, carrying his notes, and the PEOPLE’S PRESIDENT’S PERSONAL
SECRETARY enter from side-stage, left. THE PEOPLE’S PRESIDENT’S PERSONAL SECRETARY
walks over to the small writing desk and sits down. THE PEOPLE’S PRESIDENT positions
himself at the lectern, looks at his watch, straightens his tie, takes a sip of water
and clears his throat.
THE PEOPLE’S PRESIDENT
Comrades. Comrades. I have called you here, together, tonight, so that we might
take part in this unprecedented opportunity- which, by the way, is being broadcast
live to a nationwide television audience- to decide, democratically, what course
our nation is to take.
As you know, we have, in recent years, experienced a period of great unrest in our
homeland. It was a period during which “certain elements,” throughout our
society, had both lied to our people and had attempted to undermine our economy.
Today, dear comrades, I take great pleasure in being able to stand here and tell you
that your government has not only survived, but has overcome and eliminated both
these counter-revolutionary elements and their ill-fated attempts to infect our
people- and the jobs they perform- with their particularistic social ills.
(there is polite applause)
In conjunction with this positive turn of events, I will now share with you a few of
my thoughts and plans for further reforming our parliamentary voting procedure.
What I am proposing is that each and every member of parliament will have an
opportunity to participate, more fully, in the governing of our nation.
(there is hearty applause)
Yes, dear comrades, I know full-well that this is long overdue, but I have been
extremely busy these last few years, and I ask for your forgiveness and your
understanding.
[There is vigorous applause while THE PEOPLE’S PRESIDENT
impatiently checks his watch.]
Specifically, then, allow me to outline, what I call my “Greater in Perpetuity
Participation with The People’s President for the Humanization of the Homeland
Program.”
What this amounts to- and what I am asking you to vote on and hopefully pass this
evening- is an individualized private voting session with me. This, I believe, will
give us both the opportunity to be completely open, frank and honest with each
other.
Since this procedure will obviate the need for meeting here as a group, I further
suggest that we conduct our meetings in the more relaxed, less formal atmosphere
of my leisure offices which are located in the State Security Building.
This measure, I am sure that you see, will not only bring us closer together but will
further do away with the burgeoning bureaucracy that is becoming attendant to
this parliament as it is now organized.
Finally, since this parliament building will, therefore, no longer be necessary, I am
suggesting that we turn it into a Sports Hall of Fame.
(checks his watch)
Now, comrades, let us begin the vote. Member of Parliament Number One, how
do you vote? In agreement with me or against me?
MEMBER OF PARLIAMENT NUMBER ONE
(enters from stage-right and faces the lectern)
With you.
(exits at stage-right)
THE PEOPLE’S PRESIDENT
Number Two?
MEMBER OF PARLIAMENT NUMBER TWO
(enters from stage-right and faces the lectern)
With you.
(exits at stage-right)
THE PEOPLE’S PRESIDENT
Number Three?
MEMBER OF PARLIAMENT NUMBER THREE
(enters from stage-right and faces the lectern)
Mister President, I understand what you have said. And yes, I am inclined to agree
with you that closer communications between you and the members of this body
are necessary. However-
THE PEOPLE’S PRESIDENT
(interrupting)
Excuse me, sir.
[THE PEOPLE’S PRESIDENT picks up the telephone receiver
to the side of him on the lectern, dials a number and speaks,
unintelligibly, for a few moments before hanging up. Enter, from stage
left, two identically dressed STATE SECURITY OFFICERS who
walk up and stand on each side of MEMBER OF PARLIAMENT
NUMBER THREE.]
Sir, if you would and because time is short. I believe that these gentlemen- who
are, incidentally, members of my “Task Force On Getting Out The Vote”- are
interested in having you- how shall I say- accompany them so as to better debate
the merits of this particular issue.
[The two STATE SECURITY OFFICERS lock their arms
through those of MEMBER OF PARLIAMENT NUMBER
THREE and begin moving so as to exit at stage-left.]
MEMBER OF PARLIAMENT NUMBER THREE
But Mister President-
THE PEOPLE’S PRESIDENT
Yes, yes- thank-you.
[THE PEOPLE’S PRESIDENT watches the three of them
until they are gone, checks his watch, and faces forward.]
Now, shall we continue with the vote? Where was I?
(he checks his notes)
Yes, Member of Parliament Number Four, where are you?
[MEMBER OF PARLIAMENT NUMBER FOUR enters
from stage-right and faces the lectern.]
Do you vote for my proposal or against it?
MEMBER OF PARLIAMENT NUMBER FOUR
I vote for it.
(exits at stage-right)
THE PEOPLE’S PRESIDENT
Number Five?
MEMBER OF PARLIAMENT NUMBER FIVE
(enters from stage-right and faces the lectern)
I vote for it!
(exits at stage-right)
THE PEOPLE’S PRESIDENT
(checking his watch)
Number Six?
MEMBER OF PARLIAMENT NUMBER SIX
(enters from stage-right and faces the lectern)
I, too, vote for it!
(exits at stage-right)
THE PEOPLE’S PRESIDENT
Comrades, comrades. I must admit that I find your support most overwhelming.
So much so that I see no reason to prolong this needless demonstration of
unanimity longer than need be. I feel confident that the people of our country have
seen enough. I believe that we have shown the people that we can and do conduct
ourselves in a civilized manner, and that we are in no way guilty of the barbarities
that certain Western-revisionist elements accuse us of. Therefore, what I am now
proposing is a further refinement- evolution, if you will pardon the expression- of
our democratic process.
[Enter from stage-left, the two STATE SECURITY OFFICERS
who take up a position to the left of THE PEOPLE’S PRESIDENT.]
So, rather than vote individually on this matter, let us just have an “old-fashioned”
democratic show of hands.
(adding quickly)
Not your right hand- do remember where you are- but your left hand.
(he looks over the chamber)
Good. I was right! It appears that our unanimity continues. But, just for
curiosity’s sake, let’s have all those who are against my proposal raise your right
hand.
(he looks over the chamber)
My, my, not a single right hand. Members of parliament and all you comrades out
there watching me, I must confess that I am truly touched by this vote of
confidence. I then see no reason why we should not adjourn this last session of
parliament. Are there any objections?
(he pauses to allow for objections)
None? Good! This session and this parliament id forever adjourned.
[THE PEOPLE’S PRESIDENT picks up the gavel and brings
it down forcefully. He then organizes his notes, readies himself
to leave, but remembers one last thing.]
By the way, comrades- comrades! Please! May I have your attention for just a
few moments longer. Thank-you. Allow me to bring to your attention-
(he points to his PERSONAL SECRETARY sitting at the writing desk)
The pleasant young officer. He is my personal secretary It is his responsibility to
coordinate your personal appointments with me. I urge you, most strongly-
especially if you problems or unvoiced objections- to avail yourself to be as
cooperative as you see fit.
(he smiles)
Thank-you, again.
CURTAIN
END OF PLAY
Rittvika Singh
Indigo Footprints
Shimmering lights from the pane
Melt in eyes and trickle down
At the distant edge of an unknown land
I followed indigo footprint
Weaving the golden fibre of love
I whispered a song of pain
And then I followed the indigo footprint
Dabbing feet in the ink of ecstasy
Who walked across the white of my mind?
Stumbling and bumping but poised
I have let out my arms often
Charred love in the burning furnace
Strews ashes, ashes ashes around
Indigo footprints fade away, sinking and sinking beneath the ground
Fuming off in the heat of your soul
I drained myself in that madness
Madness-what is called love.
Love-broken
Love-To be continued.
Guest
Chinks and Cracks and nothing will we see
We too will sit to write a story when
A light had kissed those chinks once
Now they exasperate and lock the doors
The city sinks in the eyes for ages
Today I broke the slumber of a hope again
Intoxicated, it will run in somewhere
Somewhere, We too will be a guest for an eve.
Dusk
Its all around me
Dusk penetrates deep inside
On the lonely road, ambling
Within the yellow light
Under the shadows of the naked trees
I felt it was there inside me
For ages,like
The uprooted trunk cracking the plaster
Dusk was stretching out its branches
I did leave the strings of the sun
I did not try to pull and hold
There it will dip in the purple horizon
Strewing the crimson sparkles around
And then deserting the moment in
Umpteen hues of
Colourless-ness!
Banaras: Away From Ganges (A Sketch)
A gulmohur fell coyly at an evening's feet
For a while it smelt of the temples and idols
A deserted mosque and a graveyard on Fatimaan road
Stood dreaming amidst the fragrance of bouquet shops
With the half skyscrapers of empty aspirations
The city rolls on the yawning wheels of timelessness
Neem tooth-twigs neatly arranged at the foothpath, laughs
In the face of the sacred-threaded-pig-tailed, non-vegetarians
A blinking rear light of a vehicle stops at an ancient puncture repair
Run for the "Indane" cyllinders with a burning pile of wet dung cakes
Chokes the throat and waters the eye, of the city
In the black smoke of a dogged vulnerability
Trolleying the paunch of paan-eaters, the city
Burps and splashes the red spit on the sun
On a cornered EGG-Rool corner, would-be-men gather
And talk of censors, of IIT and IMS of future
Filth putrified in fluroscent blue...within
A Hanuman and a Durga wait to be worshipped
"Ganga-and-trident myth" walks by the alleys and hoots
In the drowsy alarm of a night watchman...
City rebuffs in the voice of a flute, and a tabla and sitar
Bhim-palsi, Ahir-bhairon, Shiv-ranajani...
Rejoices the "outdai" of little Krishna playing cricket
On the ghats...
It doesn't meekly lives by the river,
The river seeps in and floods it every night
And plummets every morning with the sound of bells...
And fumes of camphor.
Snippets :Being Inamorata
I saw the sunset behind your shoulders
And left the light in the creases of shirt
I removed the strand of hair from collar
And wiped all signs of love all over again
_____________________________________
Love seeped in traces of deference
In reveries and in hallucinations
We walk in the daze of frozen kisses
In silence of denial and chaotic acceptance
Silk of hands running down the hands
It melts in you for years, in rain
It drenches me for ages, in sun
*
Standing at the cross roads on a parched land
With clenched eyes, I wait for you.
Daydreaming evenings droop down trees
Fading in sun, I wait for you.
Blue-eyed shadows saunter along
Pale faces bid cold goodbyes
I leave your touches in the backyard
While I wish to wait for you
*
Of love slash clamouring
Of love slash dreaming
Of love slash waiting
Of love slash burning

Michael Parker
Poems, circa The Time of Migraines
The beginning, a haiku
Long, swollen river
levees at the breaking point:
migraine watch
The Preparations
I transform our bedroom into a crypt to block out the sun, its stabbing light. I fill
up my ears until I'm deaf.
I dissolve a tablet under my tongue to calm the stomach’s tumultuous sea. And I swallow
a drug to ease the pressure of the steam engine building in my fracturable head.
I’ve dug a hole in the dark. I’ve made myself a round stone, curled into its contours
to fit its womb. Motion will crack everything.
But I still can see. I’m seeking for relief on the bleak landscapes on the backs of
my eyes. It’s a barren hope. But I pray anyway.
Maybe peace will arrive at the end of the holy mantra.
Maybe salvation is somewhere thick in the folds of time yet to be born to the unknown
day or its sister, night.
Migraine Dreams
I walked the desert of the sun. Light was the sage, the Joshua, and the wild grass.
Our youngest son was struck down by a lightning rod in a violet-robed storm.
You and I sought privacy in a labyrinth of rooms. Our bodies, like vines, grappled
to sate our longing to be one.
Like a bird, I flew the lower sky, above suburbs, parks, and busy interstates, the cars
sparkling in the sun like rows of alabaster pearls. I perched on trees and high monuments.
I told people standing on Earth not to worry that I stood on ledges.
I landed on railway tracks. They hummed and I searched for something at my feet, in
between the oil-soaked boards. Was it a fragment of my waking self? I didn't see the
freight train until it was upon me, like a beast.
I materialized in an all-red theater lobby. A killer walked out of a movie poster, luring
three of us into an unused hallway. A sharp blade brandished, he said I'm going to flay
you for food.
I escaped from a door marked "Exit", climbed to the roof, spread my arms, and flew into
the safe sky.

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